


I can't. I have to.

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Series: Bodhi Lives [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Some People Live, Angst and Humor, Battle of Scarif, Bodhi Rook Lives, But the Humor is there, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Kinder than Canon, M/M, More on the Angst side, but not by much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: Bodhi Rook lives. The why and the how of it."Just before the ‘fresher was turned off, Galen whispered in his ear again. “Love, this is worth dying for. But if you can, live.” Galen’s voice turned harsh on that last word, demanding.‘Live.’ Bodhi remembered. He looked down at the grenade.‘I can’t. I have to.’"“This is for you, Galen.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> When I first watched Rogue One, I was struck by the fact there was a slim chance that Bodhi could have avoided the grenade. I settled in to write that scene, and this fic came out of it. It is my first fic! (That actually made it on to paper. Let's not lie. There have been many other fics) Kindness is appreciated. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for canonical character death (off-screen), feelings of grief, and PTSD symptoms. See end notes for further warnings.

Cassian's voice was faint as it came through Bodhi’s com unit. The noise of the explosions slammed against Bodhi's awareness, drowning out all other sound. Bodhi stared at the few feet separating him from the shuttle. It might as well have been the whole of galaxy.

"I can't get to the shuttle, I can't plug it in!" Bodhi said into his comm. He might have spoken too loud. Or too quietly. He felt like he was watching himself move, watching himself talk.

"You have to!" came Cassian's response.

'I can't. I have to,' Bodhi thought. 

Bodhi moved.

Cord spooling behind him he ran the line from his meager shelter to the open ground. A blink later and he was in the shuttle, trembling hands plugging the line in. Still detached from himself, he watched himself call out the orders that would open lines between the ragtag group on the beaches and the rebel fleet that came behind them. He made the call, the last switch flipped. He had done all he could do. All he needed to do. His body slumped in relief, and suddenly, he came back to himself.

One breath in. One breath out. How many more would he get? A shout from outside the shuttle, and a grenade rolled in. Bodhi stared at it.

'Well, that answers that question,' Bodhi thought. One breath in.

It could end. Bodhi had done it.

* * *

"Bodhi." Galen's voice echoed down the hallway. Bodhi turned, halfway back to his shuttle after making the mail run. Bodhi’s heartbeat doubled, and excitement pooled in his belly. Carefully squashing the grin that threatened to make its way onto his face, he nodded to Galen.

“Officer Erso,” Bodhi said, face schooled as well as he could into the very model of a formal Imperial pilot. Bodhi had always been a terrible liar, and the grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“I was hoping to catch you.” Galen was a far better liar than Bodhi was. Still, Bodhi mused that there was some sparkle in his eye that was not strictly becoming of an Imperial Officer. 

“I have some information come in regarding the next shipment. My engineers have some transportation protocols that need to be modified to meet material stresses…” Galen continued. He paused, and seemed to catch himself, “You probably just finished unloading.” 

“I did, Sir, but I have time to discuss transport protocols,” Bodhi said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you haven’t had the chance to eat. Tell you what, come back to mine, I made far too much Gi Dumpling Soup, you can help me eat up the leftovers. We can review the protocols over dinner.”

“Oh, Sir, I don’t wish to intrude—” Bodhi started, knowing he would be cut off. 

“It’s not an imposition. Please, I insist. I’d much rather get the review off my plate, and it gives me a chance to eat dinner too.” The sparkle in Galen’s eye persisted. 

“Well, in that case, lead the way,” Bodhi said, his voice going soft at the end. 

Galen let a ghost of a smile come onto his face then. Bodhi felt a rush of affection. He thanked his lucky stars, for what felt like the millionth time since he met Galen, that he didn’t blush easily. His cheeks would have been burning red. Galen turned and walked back to his quarters. Bodhi followed after. 

Galen was all business as he keyed in the entry code, gesturing Bodhi in then closing the door behind him. With the snick of the door sliding shut, Bodhi stepped forward until he was inches away from Galen. Galen turned slowly, ending up nose to nose with Bodhi. The Imperial mask was gone from his face, and all that remained was affection. 

“Oh, Pilot, I’ve missed you.” Galen’s hands slowly rose to Bodhi’s face, fingertips skating along his neck, thumbs roaming along his jawline. All of Bodhi’s breath left him at once. His eyes fluttered closed. He rocked up onto his toes and tipped his head forward, resting his forehead against Galen’s. For a moment, they simply breathed together.

“Nearly as much as I’ve missed you,” Bodhi said. He opened his eyes, and smiled to see Galen looking back at him, his eyes distorted at the range to look more like a Cyclops. Bodhi smirked and added, “Sir.”

Galen groaned, dropping one of his hands to Bodhi’s waist and pulling his body flush against Galen. Galen dropped his head, nipping at Bodhi’s throat. Bodhi let out a soft, “Oh.” 

“Never should have let you know what you calling me ‘Sir’ does to me,” Galen said, voice muffled against Bodhi’s neck. 

Bodhi’s breathing stuttered. “It’s turnabout for you discovering the—Ah!—trick with my neck. Sir.” 

Galen bit down. Bodhi gave up on talking and arched his hips against Galen’s body. He tugged on Galen, pulling him toward the couch that he knew was there. 

Galen’s arms stilled against Bodhi, resisting the tug. He lifted his head from his attentions at Bodhi’s neck and looked into his eyes. Bodhi stopped trying to move. 

“Not just yet, Love,” Galen said. “I do actually want to talk to you.” 

“Sure, we can ‘talk’ all you want.” Bodhi raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. 

Galen laughed, and Bodhi grinned in response. 

Bodhi remembered Galen as they first met, grim and duty-minded. Bodhi was a fresh new cargo hauler, twenty-two and still smarting from the disgrace of not being chosen as an Imperial starfighter pilot. His plan had been to keep his head down, do his work, and try not to let the resentment eat at him. The first time Galen had marched up to him brandishing a datapad Bodhi had two thoughts. First, a general sinking sensation that his plan to fly under the radar had failed spectacularly. Second, a much more specific sinking sensation that Galen Erso was the most wildly attractive man Bodhi had ever seen. 

Bodhi had managed to be professional in the face of Galen’s calm dressing down. Bodhi couldn’t even remember the misstep that lead to Galen taking an interest at all. What he did remember was Galen’s smooth voice and his irritating focus on the shape of Galen’s cheekbones. Bodhi also remembered that as Galen wound down he took a step toward Bodhi. Thrown off guard, Bodhi had inhaled sharply, lips slightly apart, thanking his genetics that he didn’t blush easily. Bodhi remembered how Galen’s eyes had narrowed, and the corner of his mouth had quirked up. 

Galen had stepped back again, and with a sudden change of tone, asked if Bodhi had eaten. Bodhi had stammered out a negative, and had somehow found himself in the engineering mess hall, a cup of Caf in his hands and a plate of food in front of him. Galen had sat across from him with his own cup, encouraging Bodhi with light chatter. Eventually, Bodhi made some smart-alec comment or another, and Galen, startled, threw his head back and laughed. Staring at the long line of Galen’s throat and feeling a light flutter in his chest Bodhi knew that he would do just about anything to hear that laugh again. Bodhi was doomed. 

Bodhi felt an echoing flutter of that happiness as he watched Galen chuckle now. It kept him from feeling too bereft as Galen took a step back and took a breath, shaking his head, a smile still on his face. One of Galen’s hands slid around to the back of Bodhi’s head, and Galen stepped forward capturing Bodhi’s lips in a kiss. 

It was not the sort of kiss that held promises of ecstasy in the near future. Instead, it was the sort of kiss that spoke to familiarity, a simple hello and I know you. Bodhi relaxed into the kiss, feeling tension leave his body. 

“Hello, Pilot. I’m so happy you are here.” Galen met his eyes, and Bodhi felt comfortably, happily, known. 

To Bodhi’s chagrin, they actually did sit down for dinner after that, and Galen insisted on putting new shipping protocols on his datapad to cement their cover story. Bodhi struck back with a hot and heavy game of footsie and dessert was...delayed. 

* * *

Bodhi collapsed onto his stomach, panting happily, tangled up in Galen’s sheets. Galen reached over and began tracing feather light patterns into Bodhi’s skin, causing Bodhi to shiver with delight. 

“God, I love your fingers,” Bodhi mumbled. “Almost as much as I love your cheekbones. Almost as much as I love your eyes, which is almost as much as I love your face. Love your you.” 

“You become ridiculously sappy after sex,” Galen said. 

“This is not news.” Bodhi propped himself back up on his elbows. “Can I...stay...tonight?” 

Galen winced and Bodhi quickly shook his head. “It’s fine, Gale, you know that. I understand that we aren’t...that we can’t be…” 

Bodhi knew that if word got out that Galen was fucking a cargo pilot, nevermind a twenty-five year old cargo pilot, things would go poorly for both of them. It was a fact of life when Galen first took him to bed three years ago, and it was a fact of life now. The fact that he was on regular cargo runs to Galen’s station and had managed to have something approximating a relationship over the years was nothing short of miraculous. 

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” Galen tugged him out of bed, and Bodhi followed, reluctantly. Galen crowded him into the fresher, letting the water cascade over them both. 

“It’s not that I don’t want it. Pilot, believe me, if I could make you mine, I would,” Galen murmured into his ear, barely above a whisper. 

Bodhi pulled his head away from Galen, meeting his eyes. “I know. I love you.”

Galen nodded. He put his chin on Bodhi’s shoulder, and murmured into his ear again. “I hate this Empire, for all it has done to both of us, and all it has forced us to do.”

Bodhi’s heartbeat ratcheted up, and Bodhi was left feeling cold despite the warm water. He nodded, keeping quiet. Galen was dangerous when he talked like this. 

“We’ve built a monster, here. You and I, and everyone, there is a stain on our soul for what we have built.” 

Bodhi felt tears well in his eyes, washed away by the water as quick as they came. He shivered, still cold despite the heat from the water. 

“Yes. But what...what else is there?” Bodhi said, voice soft. Galen had never said outright that there were listening bugs in his rooms, but they did seem to have most of their important conversations in the shower. “What I’ve built with you, it is my one good thing.”

Bodhi had come to terms, over late night whispered conversations and stolen moments of privacy, that the weapon that he transported materials for, that Galen had been building, was a monstrosity. It was something that would make the universe a more dangerous place, a more frightening place. He pushed that aside, and focused on the good he could do. Kindness to friends, enjoyment of family, loving Galen.

Galen sighed against Bodhi’s ear, running a comforting hand up and down his back. “There is more. If...if you are brave enough.” 

Bodhi stilled. “I’m not very brave at all.” 

“It’s a chance to make things right. To make yourself right. I need a message sent. To Jedha. Saw Gerrera is an old friend. I’ve hidden it in your datapad, encoded in the transport instructions.” 

“That doesn’t seem so terrible.” 

“It’s a dangerous message. You can’t let them find it. Saw is an old friend, but it will be dangerous finding him. They’ll know you’ve left. But...it’s so important. My love, it will make things right.” 

“I, Gale, I can’t….”

Galen leaned back again, cradling Bodhi’s face between his hands. “My sweet Pilot, you are the bright spot of recent years. I adore you.” Galen noticed Bodhi’s red eyes, and moved his thumbs as if wiping tears away. As Bodhi watched, Galen’s eyes grew red rimmed and Galen took in a jagged breath. 

Galen leaned in, and kissed Bodhi, hard. Bodhi slid his arms around Galen and tugged him closer, willing time to slow down, willing his body to remember this moment, with Galen’s body close to his. 

Galen slid one hand down, over Bodhi’s heart. He leaned in again, mouth a hairsbreadth away from Bodhi’s ear. 

“You have to do this, Bodhi. Listen to your heart, and be brave.” 

Bodhi nodded, then tipped his head so he was cheek to cheek with Galen. He wrapped his arms around Galen’s waist and simply leaned into him. Bodhi had said goodbye to Galen many times but this...this felt final. Sobs choked up in his throat, and he let himself cry. Galen rubbed his back, soothing him. Bodhi felt a few shudders move through Galen as well. 

Just before the ‘fresher was turned off, Galen whispered in his ear again. “Love, this is worth dying for. But if you can, live.” Galen’s voice turned harsh on that last word, demanding.

* * *

‘Live,’ Bodhi remembered. He looked down at the grenade. 

‘I can’t. I have to.’ 

“This is for you, Galen.”

Moving as quickly as he could, he crammed his body into a small storage compartment and yanked a loose floor panel up over the opening. The floor panel was solid and could block some of the blast. The grenade exploded, and Bodhi’s world collapsed in sound and fire. 

When Bodhi came to, his head was ringing and he heard screams from outside the shuttle. He was uncomfortably warm. He tried to blink some of the fuzziness away and he quickly realized that he was in a shuttle that was 1) no longer functional and 2) on fire. Scrabbling, Bodhi kicked out with his feet and shoved the heavy panel that had protected him away. Gasping for air, Bodhi stumbled out, grabbing at something that looked like the navigation discs. He was the pilot. He needed a ship. 

Bodhi half expected to get immediately shot. Instead, he stumbled out the charred shuttle and found relative quiet. Blaster fire could be heard vaguely in the distance. Just as Bodhi cleared the shuttle it let out a hiss, and flames shot out the gaping sides of the shuttle. Bodhi scrambled for a safe distance and tried to raise someone on comms. His comm was out. 

He looked around the beach, made his best guess as to where the imperial shuttles would be, and started running. As he ran Bodhi pulled his small side blaster out. The gleam of sun reflected off of metal caught his eye and he dashed around a patch of tropical bushed and found a long-range transport shuttle just sitting there. 

“Hey!” Bodhi heard a voice to his side. Eyes wide, Bodhi swung his gun up and around, firing wildly at the two stormtroopers standing by the shuttle. Though his aim was entirely off, it forced the two stormtroopers to jump to cover. Bodhi raced past them, up the gangplank, slammed the door shut, and prayed the shuttle was empty. 

By some miracle, or working of the force, it was. Bodhi raced through the ignition setup, pleased that it had been left idling. Bodhi slammed the thrusters into gear and lifted off before the two stormtroopers managed to shoot his ship down. 

Bodhi took a moment to think. ‘Okay, circle back around, see who we can pick up. Evacuate everyone we can.’

His thoughts were interrupted by a screaming alert on his shuttle pod. 

LARGE ENERGY DISCHARGE DETECTED. 

Bodhi remembered the frantic haul off of Jedha. He remembered the alert clanging across the shuttle as Cassian and K-2SO fought to get off planet. He remembered the ground rushing up to meet them after the superlaser burned into the planet. 

A gust of atmospheric disturbance threw the shuttle off course. Had he not been looking down at the console, the superlaser would have blinded him. Bodhi fought to get the shuttle back under control, trying to remember all he could about how they had escaped last time. 

Cassian had performed some madcap hyperspace calculations, somehow managing to slip into hyperspace from the planet’s surface. Bodhi still wasn’t sure how he had managed that trick. The ground rose up to meet the laser. Flying straight up wouldn’t work. There was a ripple that blasted outwards along the ground, flying horizontally wouldn’t work. 

‘If I fly parallel to the beam itself...’

It might work. He might die. He would definitely die if he stayed here. But if he could somehow use the trajectory of the superlaser to reverse his course...the air would be ionized, his shields would have difficulty, but it would probably mask his shuttle signature. 

Probably a good thing. If the Imperials noticed there was one of their ships going rogue (again), they would shoot him. If the Rebels noticed him at all, they would shoot him. 

‘Optimism, Bodhi.” He took a deep breath, laid in a course, and slammed the shuttle into full gear along the exit trajectory of the beam. For a few rocky moments, the beam itself persisted, and Bodhi was convinced the shuttle would fall apart. 

It didn’t. The beam dissipated, leaving turbulent air in it’s wake. Bodhi snorted. He had flown cargo missions with Saw Gerrera’s troops doing their best to shoot down whatever shuttles they could get their hands on. He could take a little turbulence. 

“I am the pilot,” Bodhi said, a mantra to calm himself. 

‘My Pilot,’ he heard an echo of Galen’s voice as he flew through the storm. 

* * *

Somehow, he managed it. Didn’t get shot down by the Imperials, didn’t get shot down by the Rebellion. One hyperspace jump to get out of the system. Another two jumps to throw off anyone trying to track him. 

And now he was...alone. Alive. In the blackness of space.

Grief threatened to overwhelm him. 

“Not yet.” Bodhi rifled through his bag and sighed in relief when the navigation datapad he had pulled out of the shuttle was still intact.

With that plugged into the shuttle he should be able to find his way back to the Rebellion. If he could…

Two planets. The weapon he had helped to build had destroyed two planets. His homeworld. His mother. His sister. 

“I’ll see that weapon burn,” Bodhi promised himself. 

Okay, new plan. Get back to the Rebellion. Hope the plans made it through. Hope Galen’s plan worked. 

Galen. 

But first, the Rebellion. He plugged the datapad in. It seemed to have some trouble connecting. Bodhi made a face at the consol and tried to open it again. He supposed it was too much to ask to have a Imperial console and a rebellion datapad play nicely together. Reroute the file pathways and...oh! 

The entire console lit up and then went dark. 

“No!” Bodhi said, frantically pushing buttons. 

“No?” The shuttle said back to him. 

Bodhi froze. 

“Accessing systems...I am...why don’t I have legs? Why don’t I have arms?” the shuttle said. If a monotone computer voice could be said to panic, the shuttle was panicking. 

“You are a shuttle?” Bodhi said. 

‘I am talking to the Imperial shuttle. I am lost in the blackness of space and talking to an Imperial Shuttle. Maybe I am still being eaten by the mind demon on Jedha. This feels like insanity.’

“WHY AM I A SHUTTLE,” the console demanded, still monotone but much louder. “I am a security droid. I am an expert in strategic analysis and tactical warfare. I am not experienced in being a shuttle.”

‘Wait.’

“K, K-2SO?” Bodhi stuttered. 

“Yes. Please state your name, as I cannot see you, as I am a shuttle,” K-2SO replied. 

“Bodhi, this is Bodhi Rook. The pilot.” 

“Oh. Is Cassian there?” K-2SO asked. 

“Um, no.” The grief threatened to crash down on Bodhi again. He pushed through it. “I thought you were a navigational system pad. I grabbed it out of the shuttle." 

“Oh. Yes. Cassian made a backup of me shortly before he decided I had to invade the Empire. Something about if I was reprogrammed. I suppose I am the backup. I shall schedule a crisis of identity for next Tuesday.” The shuttles console lights flicked on again. A pattern ran through them. 

Bodhi cleared his throat and after an awkward moment said, “The Imperials used the superlaser again. Scarif is gone.”

“Cassian is dead, then.” The console went quiet for a moment. “Did anyone make it out aside from you? And, apparently, me?” K-2SO asked. 

“Not that I know of,” Bodhi said, his voice barely above a whisper. He hunched over, wrapping his arms around his torso. 

“That’s unfortunate. Did you jeopardize the mission when you ran away?”

Bodhi unclenched his arms and startled “No! I did not run away! We had done all we could do. The transmission was sent!” Bodhi slammed his hands down on the console and glared at it. “The Rebellion has the Death Star plans. I think. But if they don’t it was not because of me! I did my duty. And I will keep doing it. I just need to find a way back to the Rebellion.” 

“...noted,” K-2SO said. “Along that note. If you thought I was the navigational charts, I take it that means that you do not have any of the Rebellion’s charts.” 

“No,” Bodhi said, the rush of energy from his anger quickly dissipating. He remained standing a few more moments, then slumped back in the chair. “I was kept separate from any location information. I don’t know where to go.”

“Well, neither do I. So you might as well give up on that idea,” K-2SO said. “Hey. This ship has laser turrets. I could become a space pirate. I suppose you could come too. Your presence is not intolerable, and you can help load cargo.”

“No. We are going back to the rebellion,” Bodhi said. Fuzzy ideas of plans started for form at the edges of his consciousness. It kept the grief away. 

“We just went over this. You can’t,” K-2SO pointed out. 

“I will,” Bodhi said. “I have to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning explanation:  
> Canonical Character Death - Aside from Bohdi Rook and K-2SO, everyone who dies in Rogue one still dies, but it all happens offscreen.  
> Feelings of Grief - Bodhi does not cope with the death that happens. He spends the fic trying to ignore it/staying busy.  
> PTSD symptoms - Bodhi experiences disassociation during battle. It is never specifically called that. 
> 
> AN: 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please, come into the comments and yell with me about my head-cannons for this universe. There's a lot more I want to write.


End file.
